


Early Morning Call

by waffles_007



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16365869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles_007/pseuds/waffles_007
Summary: Now that they're on either side of the continent, they don't get to be together the way they truly want. But, they make due thanks to speaker-phone and some pretty good imaginations.





	Early Morning Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkangel0410](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel0410/gifts).



> For my bae because she always listens to me yelling about old marrieds so I figured I should probably thank her some way. :***

It’s near the end of November when Taylor’s stepping out of the shower and his phone rings. Checking it quickly as he hitches his towel around his waist, a small smile spreads across his face: it’s Adam, and Taylor knows it’s early, and knows because of this, Adam’s voice is still going to be somewhat thick with sleep and honestly, that’s one of Taylor’s favorite sounds.

When the trade happened, just over a year ago, it was kind of a shock; neither of them really having a chance to process how to navigate their relationship for one day Adam was in Jersey, the next, in Anaheim. Lot’s of FaceTime, texts, and phone calls followed. At first, multiple times a day, Taylor and Adam’s phones were constantly buzzing with incoming notifications, ‘I miss you’s’ and ‘I love you’s’ filling each other’s inboxes. But, as the suddenness of Adam’s departure faded, and the immediate reaction to the change lessened, they understood that they each knew the other was there, even if they couldn’t be together, and their relationship didn’t need to take on the air of two desperate teenagers clinging to each other through constant communications.

They always made sure to speak once a day to one another; sometimes a quick call in the morning, other times a brief hello and ‘good game’ late at night, but more often than not, it was calls in mid-afternoon, before Taylor’s pre-game nap and right around the time Adam had already had at least one cup of coffee and had already had a morning work-out. So, today’s call, while not completely unusual, was somewhat unexpected: it was only about 6am in California.

Taylor wipes his hand quickly, drying the remnants of his shower across his towel clad thigh and swipes his finger across the lock and picks up the call on speaker. “Hey!”

“Hey there.” Adam sounds a little groggy and Taylor hears the tell-tale signs of a yawn being stifled as Adam speaks.

“What’s up?” Taylor asks, wondering if there’s more to this call than just their daily hello.

Some slight rustling before Adam answers and another stifled yawn happens before Adam answers. “We’re off to Tampa today; early practice then the flight—figured I’d give you a call now since I’m probably gonna crash after we land.” Adam explains, “and you’ve got your flight to Vancouver so…” Adam trails off. Sometimes their respective team schedules work, other times like these they’re so opposite, each one flying cross-country, that finding a few minutes to talk takes a little work.

“Yeah, we’re taking off around five—game’s not till tomorrow.” Taylor replies, knowing Adam already knows this, knows Taylor’s schedule, but he says it anyway. “What time’s your practice?” Taylor asks, leaning in towards the mirror to poke at a spot that’s starting to break out along his forehead. Fucking helmet zits, fucking annoying.

“Nine.” Adam says, “got up a little early to call, still haven’t managed to roll out of bed though. You’re probably up though, huh?”

“Yeah—just stepped out of the shower actually, caught me with my hand on the towel.” Taylor laughs. “Not sure if you have bad timing or great timing.”

Taylor’s comment causes a small chuckle from Adam before he answers. “I’m taking it as impeccable timing, personally.” He pauses before continuing. “So…you, ah, still in just that towel?” Adam’s voice drops a tiny bit as he speaks.

Taylor knows that voice; it’s the one Adam subconsciously uses when he’s turned on and Taylor realizes where this could go quite easily: neither one really has anything to do in the immediate future so… “Yeah—just the towel.”

Adam lets out a small noise, kind of a groan, kind of a growl. “You wanna do this?” He asks, voice still low and a little drawn out.

Taylor nods then answers with an equally slowed down, ‘yeah’. “Just gonna get to the bedroom, one sec.”

“Hold up—” Adam interrupts, “you still in the bathroom, in front of the mirror?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay there—want you to look at yourself while we do this,” Adam states, “you look fucking great when you’re all worked up and shit. I miss seeing that…” He adds at the end a bit wistfully before continuing. “Hold on—putting you on speaker.”

Taylor hears the small change in background noise as Adam pulls the phone from his ear and switches it over so he’s hands free.

“Already kind of hard thinking about you,” Adam tells Taylor, “standing there—bet your hairs all spiky and shit, skin’s all pink and warm.” Adam makes a sound that’s like a mix between a purr and a growl in the back of his throat. “Fuck—I’d love to just taste you right now, warm and wet…”

Taylor bites his lip as his hand drops to the front of the towel, cups his cock over the fabric, feels himself getting plumper and harder as Adam talks.

“I’d fucking mouth at your neck, run my hands down your body, fuck—your skin’s so soft, know that?” Adam groans, “fuck—”

“That sounds—” Taylor’s breath hitches a little as he tightens his hand, the towel plush and textured rubbing against his cock. “great.”

“Already got a hand on yourself?” Adam asks, “towel on or off?”

“On…” Taylor answers, but his fingers are already slipping the corner of the towel out from itself where it’s hitched along his hips. “Well, off now.”

“Nice…” Adam replies and strokes his own cock a few times, long, measured strokes over his boxers. “Just imagine I’m there, ‘k? Gonna tell you what I’d do.”

Taylor accepts, keeps standing in front of the mirror, fingers playing idly on his cock as he waits for Adam to continue.

“Hands off your dick—stop whining—” Adam says it with a smile that bleeds through the phone, “just close your eyes and do what I’m saying.”

Taylor complies and huffs a little as he drops his hands to the laminate vanity countertop.

“I’d be mouthing at your neck, dragging my fingers down your chest, feeling how warm and smooth your skin is—” Adam starts, “I love how you lean in to it, tilt your head so I can get right in there, right against you, so I can taste you, smell you.”

Taylor unconsciously tilts his head, as if he was really baring his neck for Adam to explore.

“I’d keep my hands moving, sliding over your sides, down your arms while I lick a path down to the little hollow at your throat—you got your beard going?” Adam asks.

“Yeah,” Taylor answers quietly.

Adam makes a small approving noise, “I can feel it, rough under my tongue, I’d trace the line from one side to the other with my mouth, suck on your Adam’s apple…” Adam slides his thumb over his tip and groans just thinking about the texture under his mouth, knowing the noises it would draw from Taylor’s mouth. “God—I’d spend a while there, sucking and licking, moving down to your collarbones, leaving marks, bruising your skin up with my mouth. You love that.”

Taylor groans—he does, he really, really does, and his hand comes up to drag along the same spots Adam’s referring to, the same spots that have held Adam’s marks in the past.

“And I love that you’d be getting all breathy and shit—impatient,” Adam chuckles low, “my fingers’d find your nipples, rubbing my thumb over one, then the other, you’re so fucking sensitive.”

Taylor’s fingers walk down his chest, he mimics Adam’s words, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the left, then the right nipple, feeling them harden to small nubs under his touch. “That’s good…” Taylor says, voice quiet and beginning to take on a slight rasp as his arousal grows.

“You wouldn’t be expecting it, but I’d pinch them, suddenly, make you gasp,” Adam waits as a gasp emanates from his phone, just as he’d expected it would—the sound goes right to his cock. “It’d sting, feel sharp, but I’d slide down, take it in my mouth, swirl my tongue around, lick away the sting.”

“Fuck—yea…” Taylor breathes out, pinching himself sharply, feeling the sting spread across his chest. He quickly sticks his fingers in his mouth, wets them, then pretends its Adam’s tongue on his nipple soothing the fading pain.

“That shit drives you crazy—” Adam comments, “so I’d do it again. Until you’re whining and biting your lips.”

Adam knows him so well, Taylor thinks as he worries his bottom lip while he pinches and cools his own chest, just like Adam’s mouth would. A small whine escapes and he hears Adam chuckling. “Adam—”

“You’re so impatient—” Adam admonishes fondly, “fine—you know I’d spend forever just licking and tasting you, love to tease you, make you whine and beg me for more…”    The memory of doing just that, many, many times this past summer causes Adam’s hand to speed up for a moment before he slows it back down, no use in getting all worked up before he’s got Taylor in a similar state. “I’d work my way down, stopping to bite at your hips, run my tongue down your vee, taste how clean you are, how warm you still are.”

Taylors fingers trace the phantom path Adam’s mouth is making, stopping just short of curling around his cock.

“Go ahead,” Adam says, barely concealing a small laugh, “you know I couldn’t stop there—not with your cock in my face just asking to be touched.”

Taylor groans, wraps his fingers around his length and gives himself a quick stroke.

“I’d lean in, fingers around your thighs, fucking thick-ass thighs, take the tip in my mouth, taste you, run my tongue around the head, play with your foreskin, feel the head underneath, coax it out with my tongue.” Adam closes his eyes and imagines the way Taylor tastes, the feel of his skin, the smoothness of his cock-head underneath.

Taylor’s thumb repeats Adam’s words, sliding his thumb across the head, pulling back his foreskin, helping to slide his cock-head out till he can see it pink and swollen and wanting. It’s so sensitive as he drags his fingers over the slit while Adam continues talking, telling him how it’d be his tongue dipping in, drawing out the small drops of pre-come that stick slickly to Taylor’s fingers.

“You taste so good—” Adam tells Taylor, licking his lips before continuing, “you get all flushed and fidgety when I do that, just keep my mouth on your tip, dip my tongue in your slit until you’re breathless and moaning and almost begging me to stop because it’s so much—”

And it is so much, Taylor’s fingers and thumb worrying at the head, slipping across the tip sending shivers through his own body, almost wanting to stop because it’s over-stimulating, but he doesn’t, not until Adam’s telling him how he’s running his mouth down Taylor’s length.

“I’d lean in, once you’ve almost had enough, and take more of you in my mouth, feel your skin sliding under my lips, feeling every inch in my mouth, smooth ‘n hot. I’d do that thing where I hum, feel your thighs trembling where I’m holding on to you…” Adam hums, low and quiet in to the phone and is rewarded with a moan from Taylor’s end.

“I bet you’d be putting your fingers in my hair, you always do, pulling, twisting, not hard, just right—” Adam paints a picture with his words, yearns to feel Taylor’s fingers twined in to his hair, holding him loosely, setting the pace that Taylor wants.

Taylor’s hand works along his cock, sliding and stroking as the fingers of his other hand flex lightly on the countertop, mimicking what they’d be doing in Adam’s hair. He watches himself in the mirror, notes the pink tinge in his cheeks and the way his eyes are soft and pupils large with desire at Adam’s words.

“I’d feel your cock bumping against the back of my throat, fuck—I love that feeling—feeling the swell of your tip slipping down my throat.” Adam groans and tightens his fist a little, breath stuttering when he imagines the feeling of Taylor’s cock sliding down his throat.

“It’s so good—” Taylor breathes out, “play—play with my balls…please…”

Adam swallows, there’s just something really hot about hearing Taylor breathe out those words: if he was there, in person, Taylor wouldn’t have to tell him, wouldn’t have to ask, Adam would just know. “Yeah—I’d keep your cock in my mouth, go back to the tip, suck gently, but my hand would be below, stroking a thumb between your balls, feeling them heavy and warm in my hand…” His own hand slides down below his cock.

Taylor’s does as well, rolling his balls in his hand as he imagines its Adam’s long fingers instead of his own. He pulls a little and groans which only spurs his hand on to squeeze right below the tip when he feels his pleasure building and building. “Adam—”

Adam recognizes the need in Taylor’s voice, knows Taylor’s getting close and he won’t like, he’s getting close too, just listening to the sounds Taylor’s been making while he talks. “I’d slide my mouth down your cock again, just a few times, slow it down a little, but I know what you want—you’re asking me to let you come, your fingers in my hair getting a little tighter, insistent. Fuck—I bet you’re all pink and shit—mouth open, Jesus, you look so hot like that—”

“Fuck—Adam—” Taylor watches his reflection as he works his hand down his length, up and down, quickening his pace.

“When your fingers get real tight I’d slide back to the tip ‘cause it drives you fucking crazy, sucking on it, tasting you as your cock drips in my mouth, so close, and I’m not letting up even though you’re begging me, your legs almost shaking…”

“Oh—oh fuck—Adam—” Taylor moans out.

“Fuck—Taylor—” Adam groans, “your cock—fuck, it’s…I can feel everything tightening—your balls, your thighs, your cock getting a little harder—”

“Fuck—shit—” Taylor curses, trying to hold back the pleasure that’s built up so high he can barely contain himself any longer, “I’m—”

“Me too—” Adam gasps, hand working fast on his cock.

Taylor lets out a long-broken groan and his hand tightens and shakes as he comes, spilling over his fingers, hot and slick.

It’s that sound that pushes Adam over the edge too and he comes, warmth spilling over his fist on to his abdomen, leaving him rasping for breath.

They’re silent for a few moments, small hitches of breath as the final spurts of come leak from their cocks, and while their breathing finally slows down.

“Shit—that was—” Taylor starts.

“Yeah—fuck,” Adam finishes, sort of. “God, I miss you—”

“Me too…” Taylor agrees: talking like this is good, it helps, but it’s no substitute for live stimulation.

“Just a couple more weeks, you’ll be here soon.” Adam answers, they play each other near the beginning of December, he can’t wait.

“Can’t wait…” Taylor says.  


End file.
